


Save It For a Rainy Day

by alltheglitters



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheglitters/pseuds/alltheglitters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Fred's funeral, an ancient spell lifts their spirits - and his, they imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Save It For a Rainy Day

We lay you into the soil, the peat-brown dirt. Not _Wingardium_ today, no, no more magic, Mum said. Instead, our bare hands and thick ropes lift the wooden box into the hole.  
  
The wind is shifting and today is too cold, especially for May. Are you watching? You remain everywhere, but you're not here with us. Physically. Lucky saint, you don't have to witness Fleur's nails digging into Bill's arm nor listen to Mum's quiet sobbs (Dad tightens his hand around her wrist). You don't know that your younger brother is cowering beside his parents, Harry and Hermione patting his back.  
  
You might be happy to know that Ginny, Charlie and Percy are less of a worrisome sight. How brave they are, standing solemnly, side by side, glancing at an unmoving George.  
  
Your twin, your other half, he's tired, but he certainly isn't the only one who is hearing the ghost of your voice at night. We all are.  
  
If you hadn't been this good a son, a brother and a friend, we might hold you responsible for robbing us of our sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
After the eulogy, it is the end of the ceremony. Dad lifts his wand and whispers a spell. It is so unfamiliar that Ron doubts that even Hermione has heard of it!  
  
" _Resurgo luciliae_."  
  
Suddenly, grey shrubberies and dead branches give way to colours – bright, bright flashes.  
  
A gasp escapes Mum's throat. The redheaded boys look sceptical, while Harry holds his breath.  
  
The apple tree behind us stretches upwards; though the plant was wilted only moments ago, its red fruits now serve as a stark contrast to the green leaves. Rose, orange, turquoise, amber and violet petals appear before our eyes. Thousands of flowers bloom and bloom; a rainbow of forget-me-nots, chrysanthemums and lilies extends far beyond the cemetery and the surrounding fields of grass.  
  
The magnificence is overwhelming. The creation of a garden is as fitting as a funeral can be, because only _this_ much life and vitality can ever compare to you.  
  
  
  
  
  
We don't put it in words exactly, but we all wonder where you end up and how we fit into the puzzle. Maybe you'll find us in the decades to come, up there in the marshmallow clouds. For now, we'll miss the way you bounce instead of walk, your irritating jokes in the kitchen during the damndest hours of the day, but we're all trying very hard... _Please_ , we want you to like it here.  
  
It's rather picturesque; Dad likens the forest to these illustrations of Eden, the ones he studied in a book Harry had borrowed for him from the Muggle library.  
  
We hope that this will be a comfortable place for your repose – with any luck, this reassuring thought might help us through the tempest that is your passing.


End file.
